


Cernunnos and other drabbles

by elfscribe



Category: Fall of the Kings - Kushner & Sherman, Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-09
Updated: 2010-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-06 01:52:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfscribe/pseuds/elfscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Never before had Basil imagined that skin, pricked with colored inks, could become a canvas to transform a beautiful youth into a living god . . ."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cernunnos and other drabbles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thevina &amp; Oshun](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Thevina+%26+Oshun).



> Fandom: _Fall of the Kings_ by Ellen Kushner and Delia Sherman  
> Cernunnos is the Celtic horned god of fertility.

A triple drabble (300 words)

Cernunnos

Never before had Basil imagined that skin, pricked with colored inks, could become a canvas to transform a beautiful youth into a living god, horned, adorned with lush garlands of ivy and oak – a Northern King arisen from Basil's sepulcher of dusty tomes. _True magic,_ whispered a voice that was not his own. He ached to worship and possess, to take that power unto himself. His tongue traced the contours of the collar bone, descended over pliant, salty skin, paused to sup on first one, then another tender berry, seemingly escaped from the foliage. His lover's chest heaved; he writhed in Basil's arms, moaning with the deep timbre of a deer in rut.

Basil cupped and stroked the rampant flesh that strained across the flat belly, wondering if it were possible, if he said the right words, that the vine could manifest and grow around and around, lacing their bodies together, earth heavy. Theron's dark, silky hair framed slanting, porcelain cheekbones and a strong, aquiline nose. The nostrils flared. A sudden start and a listening gaze into the unfathomable distance. Basil scented musk, a pervasive perfume that maddened him.

Appearing within his lover's eyes, he saw the stag, standing alerted by a twilit pool. One water droplet fell from his muzzle to cleave the mirrored surface into ever-widening circles. Silently, Basil hunted, knife ready to thrust deep into quivering flesh.

Primal beauty.

Basil's heart quickened, wondering at his audacity in despoiling it. Then, Theron's lips quirked into a secret smile. An answering growl uncoiled in Basil's throat, reverberating down into his sex. The land would have its King, but he would have him first. Theron's long, cool fingers reached up, laced in the fur covering Basil's chest and pulled him down into that sacred realm where flesh and myth entwine.

 

~End~

*********************************  
A double drabble. 200 words.

The Scruffy Boy

Dr. St. Cloud paid him so little heed that likely the man didn’t even know his name. Rab didn’t mind as long as the magister was not too preoccupied to tip him. His students, though, they would have done well to ask if Rab knew what was going on up there. Because, of course, he did. He saw the well-dressed, young lord come and go. He heard the rhythmic thumping of the bedstead against the wall, the squeaky springs, and the muffled howls of ecstasy. At times, the noises seemed almost animal in nature, a curious growling and mewling.

Once, after they left in the morning, he had let himself in the doctor's room, nose twitching like a rodent. He breathed in the spice of their passion, lay down in the rumpled sheets and rolled, hoping to lure some of their fierce beauty to himself. Alas, he was left with only his own hand for company.

When the black-robed students showed up and climbed the stairs, with good intentions and furrowed brows, laden with parcels and innocence, he snickered behind that hand. Then he scuttled after them, waiting for the door to open, hoping for a glimpse of feral magic.

~End~


End file.
